January 16th
by KatieIsLost
Summary: Postrescue Jack and Sawyer get together to celebrate an anniversary. Jate and Skate.
1. Jack's January 16th

He wakes up too early and his heart feels as heavy as his head, for a minute, he can't figure out why, but then he remembers the date and the weight becomes clear. Jack feels the way he has felt every January 16th for the past 6 years.

As he gets up, the bed creaks and Alison moans sleepily as she rolls to her other side and drifts off again. He kisses her blond head and rests his hand on her very pregnant belly, her eyes flutter, but she doesn't wake up. Jack dresses quietly with out turning on any lights so she can get all the sleep she can.

Ali's good for him. She smiles easy and tells jokes that make even him laugh. She's easy going and smart and creative. Their home is filled with her paintings, paintings that Jack falls in love with even though he's never gone in for that sort of thing. Inevitably, she sells them for ridiculous amounts of money and replaces them with new paintings. Or she used to before they had Katherine a couple years ago. Now she paints less frequently and makes excuses to hold on to the ones they have longer. She's a great mom. And she loves him, a lot, he still can't figure out why. Even so, as he leaves the room, he slips off his wedding ring and pockets it. 364 days a year, he's Ali's, but today his heart belongs to someone else. Today he can only be hers.

Before he heads out to the hospital, he checks on the baby. He supposes in a few months, they won't call her the baby anymore, they'll call little Christian the baby. As the door opens, it throws light on the tiny bed and its tiny occupant, and Jack's heart breaks a little. It seems to break every time he sees her, just because she takes another little piece of it in her little hands.

Katherine is three and a half and the most serious child he has ever known. From her dark hair to her dark eyes, she's all Jack. Jack can see Alison in her porcelain skin and her bow shaped mouth, but other than that, looking at her is like looking in a toddler sized mirror. He remembers holding her for the first time in that beige hospital room. They hadn't been able to decide on a name before she came. But when he looked at her, it was the only name that would do. He whispered it, and Ali, so spent but so happy, told him it was beautiful. She had assumed his tears were happy ones, and he had let her believe it.

Katherine insists on being called Katherine with all the determination a three year old can muster, which Jack and Ali have discovered is quite a bit. Ali called her Kat once and the stare Katherine fixed her with was so full of disdain that Jack had laughed out loud. He had teased Ali about it until one day Jack called her Katie and received the same treatment. "Not so funny now, is it Tough guy?" Ali had said through her beautiful wide grin.

But as serious as she is, her heart is even bigger. She cried inconsolably after a play date at the park during which she and another little girl named Janie had found a dead field mouse in the sandbox. When Jack got home from the hospital hours later, she and Ali were on the living room floor and Katherine's eyes were red rimed from crying so hard. "It was just so small." She had looked up and told him.

"Hi, Daddy." The little voice brings him back to the present.

"Hey, Pal." He says quietly. "Go back to sleep, okay?"

Katherine nods and her brown curls bob. "Hug first?" she asks and holds out her arms, her fingers wiggling back and forth.

He swoops her up and she hugs him tight. He puts her back in bed and points to his cheek. She kisses him, then wrinkles her nose at his whiskers. "Be good for Mommy today." He tells her.

She nods and says "I'll try." He has to smile at her honesty.

----------------------------

He leaves work just after his shift is over. Feels like the first time in way too long that he's actually getting out of there on time. Usually he would feel a twinge of guilt over not checking personally on his last surgery patient, but today is different. He gets Sally, his favorite nurse, to do it and leaves in record time.

Still, he's late getting to the bar and Sawyer's already there. And if the glazed look in his eyes is any indication, he's already quite a few drinks ahead of him. He's twirling a shot of something, probably whiskey, on the table. The liquor sloshes out of the shot glass and Sawyer shakes his hand, cursing under his breath. Its then that Jack notices that Sawyer's kindly thought of him, there's another shot across the table with his name on it.

Jack strides to the booth in the back and Sawyer doesn't look up, doesn't even notice him until he throws his briefcase on the leather seat and starts to remove his jacket. Sawyer looks up and meets his eyes. Without a word of greeting he stands up and wraps Jack in a bear hug. Jack laughs, slightly taken aback. "Exactly how many have you had, Sawyer?"

Sawyer claps his back hard and releases him. He flips his unkempt hair out of his eyes and shrugs, "You were late." It's his only answer.

Jack shoves his briefcase and jacket further into the corner, then slides into the booth. And there they sit, two guys lookin to get shit-faced in a seedy LA bar. Two guys still in love with the same dead girl.

-------------------

The first anniversary of her death came 5 months to the day after they had been rescued. He was already halfway through a bottle of extremely overpriced Vodka when the doorbell rang. Despite the fact that he hadn't seen him since getting off the island, he had known it would be him, it was just pure instinct. He had been right.

Sawyer stood there, bareheaded in the pouring rain, and held up an unopened bottle of Jack Daniels in greeting. Jack had held up his bottle of Vodka. "Cheers." Sawyer said as their bottles clinked.

Every year since, they had gotten together on this day. Jack's house had been the scene of their drunken interlude until 4 years ago when he had just been married to Ali. Sawyer had shown up like clockwork and as Jack had introduced them, Sawyer had looked at him as though he'd been personally betrayed. Ali had been the picture of politeness, as ever, but she had still thrown Jack a "Your friends with this guy? Really?" look that Jack had silenced with an "I'll explain later." look of his own.

They meet at the bar now. It had been one of Sawyer's choosing, full of dark corners and criminal types. The irony of it was that Jack passed the place everyday on his way to the hospital. He had never once seen it until that night four years ago.

"How's the wife and kid?" Sawyer asks. Jack is a little surprised that Sawyer sounds genuinely interested.

As they talk, Jack notices how the lines around Sawyer's eyes have deepened, he looks as though he has lost some weight as well. Jack wonders if he looks as worse for the wear as Sawyer does.

Later in the night, after the pretty waitress that eyes Sawyer like a kid in a candy store has brought them a couple more rounds of drinks, it seems like it might be the right time. Sawyer must have been thinking the same thing, he looks at Jack and asks "Ready?"

Jack nods and they both hold up their drinks. They say "Kate" at the same time and clink their glasses together. It's the first and only time they say her name tonight. As the shot burns down Jack's throat, he closes his eyes and thinks of the same thing he thinks every year at this moment. He thinks about her in Sun's garden in that ridiculous orange shirt and he thinks "God, I miss her."

He looks at Sawyer, lost in his own memory of the girl they both lost and his throat aches.

-----------------------

"You alright getting home? You didn't drive did you?" Jack asks as both he and Sawyer throw cash on the table.

Sawyer shakes his head as he stumbles a little and shoves his wallet in his back pocket. "I'm good." He says.

"You know, we can get together more than once a year. Wouldn't kill us to do that." Jack says as he pulls his jacket on. It's a simple task, but it requires more concentration than he's used to.

"Sure thing, Doc." Sawyer says and flashes the smile that was once so familiar. It's the first time Jack's seen it tonight. He knows that Sawyer won't be making any special effort until next year and it makes him inexplicably sad.

"She'd like that." He says in an effort to persuade him.

Sawyer nods. "Ain't that the truth." He says, but Jack knows he hasn't changed his mind.

"See you then." Jack says. Sawyer nods again and Jack's eyes follow as he staggers out of the bar and into the cold winter night.


	2. Sawyer's January 16th

He wakes up too early and that damn song is stuck in his head. Sawyer shuts his eyes, willing himself back to sleep, but it's a loosing battle and he knows it. So he sits up in bed, notices there's no random red head next to him, and realizes what day it is. He rubs his temples and sits in bed a little longer than necessary. Then he shrugs and gets up, heading toward the shower. On his way there he stumbles over a few days worth of dirty clothes, an empty carton of cigarettes and, inexplicably, a copy of Vogue (maybe not so inexplicably).

He sings Johnny Cash in the shower. He'll never know why, but every January 16th, he wakes up with that song rattling around in his head. He thinks it must be true. Love is a burning thing, otherwise how could he love so hard and hurt so bad so long after she's been gone?

He gets out of the shower, finds some cleanish jeans, and tries to think of something to do to kill the next 12 hours.

What he really wants is a drink. Bad.

Any other day, he'd get himself one. Maybe make himself a Bloody Mary and call it breakfast. But not today. Today, he has to wait for Jack. He knows if he doesn't wait, he'll never make it out of the house. So he pads barefoot into the kitchen, and instead of making a Bloody Mary, he makes himself a big steaming pot of really bad, really strong coffee.

He stands at the counter waiting for the coffee to percolate and missing her more than he cares to admit.

After the coffee brews, he wanders aimlessly to the living room, just as filthy as every other room, and plops on the couch. Hot coffee spills over the side of the mug and onto his fingers and he curses himself. He reaches beneath him into the couch cushions and pulls out an old black shoe. For a second, he wonders how it got there, then he realizes he just doesn't care. He chucks it towards the door on the other side of the room, then settles back into the couch. Before he takes his first sip, he holds the cup up and mummers "Here's to you, Sweetheart." There's an edge in his voice, as though he thinks he's being absurd. He takes a swig and burns his tongue on the coffee.

"Fk."

-------------------------

He was the one who found her. Jack wasn't far behind him, but he had come upon her first. She hadn't even been missing for that long, a few hours maybe.

Were it not for the awkward way her neck was twisted, she could have been taking a cat nap in the fading sun. Her grey bag lay of to the side and pieces of fruit were scattered about like constellations.

The way she died was so pedestrian, so soul burningly dull, that it inspired anger in him. She would have hated to die that way. Jack said it had probably happened so fast that she didn't know what was going on, at least there was that.

Jack did his doctor thing and immediately knelt by her side, searching in vain for any sign of life. But Sawyer knew immediately. Truth be told, so did Jack, he was just going through the motions.

Not knowing what else to do, his brain a mush of incoherent thought, Sawyer had gathered the bruised fruit and placed it back in her bag. How ridiculous was that?

------------------------

Jack's late. He always is. Who knows how long he'll be if there was an emergency at the hospital. Sawyer doesn't wait for him anymore and orders a shot from the pretty blond waitress. If Jack wasn't meeting him here, he would have sat at the bar, but he knows Jack's usually uncomfortable in this place, so he chose the back booth for his sake. That, and this isn't the sort of reunion you want to have in front of the Moe Szyslak's of the world.

While he waits, he tries to imagine the world with her still in it. He can't anymore. He tries to imagine her sitting next to him and they're waiting for Jack and his wife to meet them for dinner. Whats her name? Abby? Ally? Something with an A, he knows that at least. But the whole thing is too ridiculous and the fantasy doesn't go very far. He chides himself for even trying.

First of all, if he had her next to him, no way in hell they'd be waiting for Jack. No way they'd even be in this seedy bar. Besides, he knew if she was still in this world, Jack never would have gotten married anyway. He would have held out till the bitter end, and so would Sawyer. He'd done it anyway.

When Jack finally gets there, he can tell he's worried about him. It irritates the hell out of him. He wants to tell him he's fine just so he stops fixing him with that concerned doctor look, but he says nothing. Telling Jack that he's fine would be telling Jack a lie. He hasn't lied to Jack in six years and he's not about to start now. Not even if the lie would make them both feel better.

Tonight isn't about feeling better anyway. For him it's about feeling worse.

Later in the night, after the pretty waitress that eyes him like a kid in a candy store has brought them a couple more rounds, it seems like it might be the right time. Sawyer looks at Jack and asks "Ready?"

Jack nods and they both hold up their drinks. They say "Kate" at the same time and clink their glasses together. It's the first and only time they say her name tonight. As the shot burns down Sawyer's throat, he closes his eyes and thinks of the same thing he thinks every year at this moment. He thinks about her at that fire the night before he left on the raft. To this day, he has never seen anyone quite as beautiful as she was that moment. He curses himself for those nasty words he said. But he knows, even if he had somehow known how it would all end, he never could have said anything else. He thinks to himself the same thing he thinks every year. "Neither of us deserved her anyway."

He looks at Jack, lost in his own memory of the girl they both lost and his heart burns.

-----------------------

"You alright getting home? You didn't drive did you?" Jack asks him as they both throw crumpled bills on the table.

Sawyer shakes his head as he stumbles a little and shoves his wallet in his back pocket. "I'm good." He says.

"You know, we can get together more than once a year. Wouldn't kill us to do that." Sawyer suppresses a smile as he watches Jack struggle with his coat.

"Sure thing, Doc." Sawyer says and he can feel himself smile. He doesn't know why he lies now when he was so against it before. Probably because he knows Jack knows he's lying.

"She'd like that." Jack says, and he knows that's true.

"Ain't that the truth." He says, but Sawyer knows if he and Jack had to put up with each other more than one day a year, neither of them would be able to do it. Nope, this is good enough, this one day a year so neither of them has to bear it alone.

"See you then." Jack says. Sawyer nods again and he can feel Jack's eyes follow him as he heads out the door.


End file.
